Another blog I hope to read to my psychiatrist. She won’t have time for me to read all this shit. I am desperate for more of an interpersonal connection, not exactly what a psychiatrist is for, I guess.
As a doctor, I am fully aware that you are far more knowledge about my various disorders/struggling/general patheticness.
However, Ive been in the trenches for over two decades now, attempting to control and conifer my severe emotional lows. In short, I am knowledge of me.
Group therapy is a disaster for me as a human. It is.
Everyone has a suicide attempt, most multiple. Out of eight people, one who shares daily announced her struggle to not hurt other people. She stated she feels like she will have to in order to get access to the meds she actually needs. The counselor agreed that not getting medication can be frustrating.
Wait, what? This woman states she might assault others and the therapist identifies and validates part of the emotional driver for that… Christ.
Most participants have panic attacks, don’t worry, they take Klonopin instead of working through it themselves. Most don’t have stable jobs, let alone careers.
I love the idea of suicide. I relish it. It is a cudgel that I use harm myself whenever I feel down. Regardless, I will never have a suicide attempt. Never have I considered hurting anyone other then myself. I don’t have panic attacks and I am not prescribed addictive medication.
All of this is going to make me sound like an egotistic asshole, but I need to be blunt.
Everyone there is an idiot. An hour and a half lesson included a single worksheet and a lot of being talked at. I am better then these people. My IQ is in the top 10%, I can recognize an idiot. Two people there over 50%, the councilor is low — for real.
On the first day, you, as my psychiatrist said I needed to find a therapist who could match me intellectually. Why would this be different from group therapy?
Therapy is divided into two parts ninety minute parts. First all members update the group on their day, the worthless councilor asks questions like, “How did that make you feel,” “Emotionaly, was there an impact” and “What mood did this lead too?” These three were asked to each group member. I remember them because — they are the exact same God damn fucking question. You stupid worthless bitch. You are suppose to be helping me. Hello more hopelessness.
The lesson? Eight suggestions on how to fall asleep. Six of the eight group members furiously scribbled notes about the presented material. I sat disappointed that the councilors think so little of me. However, this material is relevant to much of the group.
The eight magic suggestions to fall asleep?
- Try reading
- Move, try sleeping on the couch
- Move, read somewhere else, then back to bed
- Count down from a large number
- Use various meditation techniques
- No phones, bright screens a half-hour before bed
- Listen to an audiobook
- Take a warm shower or bath
Really. I get five hours of sleep on a good night, have since 7th grade. Really.
What is wrong with my group? How can you be so helpless. How in the flying fuck do they not know all of these? Read a fucking book, what a valuable tip, thanks group therapy. Fuck.
Group therapy is to build identity. I do not and will not identify with people who have multiple suicide attempts, struggle not to hurt others and never thought of counting down or reading on sleepless nights. These are not my people. If they are, Christ, I should go ahead and give up and fucking paint my living room walls with a gun and my brain matter.
I can force myself to go to group therapy, I can. But I know me. It is not right for me. It is harmful. You will be angry. I know. You can send me back to work if you must, that would be less determental. Although, I am not fully functional, it’d harm my career, it would hurt me, but not like group therapy. I am taking every individual therapy appointment I can get, next week I have three.
You are an expert. I am so grateful to have you looking out for me. But, group therapy is not the right choice for me.